


Fortress Hearts

by Executortionist



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: More than Meets the Eye
Genre: M/M, Threesome, and other stuff, secret meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 01:11:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1570439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Executortionist/pseuds/Executortionist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slightly AU-ish development of Fort Max's relationship with First Aid and Ambulon (inspired after re-reading chapter 4/5).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fortress Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Congratulations, my first extremely vague smut and it was all of YOU that made me do it. Gosh darned Transformers Fandom.
> 
> Naw, jokes, you're all amazing!!
> 
> Hehe, I hope you enjoooy~

**1.**

When he was jolted into waking, the first thing he saw was a blue visor and a red 'x'.

Minutes later, there was gentle hands lifting the head of a Decepticon out of his shoulder: flaky paint and glimpses of pink. And what did it matter that it was all a bit blurry?

* * *

  **2.**

On the Lost Light, he felt huge- awkward and intrusive. Rung wouldn't stop asking the same questions, and he just wanted to _do_ something instead of sit and think. And think and think and the thoughts wouldn't go away and he hated Prowl and Overlord and _it wouldn't go away_. 

No matter what he did; it wouldn't go away. The ghostly feeling of hands, of the violation as he was nearly torn apart and put back together and torn apart again, over and over and over.

He just- he couldn't sit still anymore. He had to move, to do something or talk to someone. 

So he went for a walk.

* * *

  **3.**

The blue visor and flaky paint gradually came back in the form of two medics: First Aid and Ambulon.

They always treated him kindly when he passed by them; offering him small treats and pleasant conversation, and sometimes he would go in to get something or other looked at.

And they were always kind, always gentle and _perfect_. They didn't let him dwell on Garrus-9. They worked together perfectly in a way he couldn't imagine anyone else accomplishing.

They didn't make him feel awkward or intrusive. They included him; they didn't scrutinize or tip-toe around him, and it was just what he needed.

Rung could go stuff it- he had two perfectly good friends right here.

* * *

  **4.**

There was a day he nearly snapped; a day so bleak and frustrating and sad. There was a day his cannons came to life and he nearly blew off the heads of the crew- but he didn't. Couldn't.

 _They_ lead him away to a secluded room just off the med bay. They sat him down and then sat themselves right beside him, one on each side. Both dangerously close to his trembling hands.

The only sound was the sound of his fans running- trying to cool his anger and return him to 'normal'.

And they three sat together; not saying anything, but their presences alone were enough. Slowly but surely, his fans stopped, and suddenly he could breathe and move and feel again, and it was all thanks to them. Thanks to First Aid and Ambulon.

He looked at them then, Ambulon nearly falling asleep where he sat, and First Aid carefully holding on to his (much larger) arm, waiting for him to come to his senses. For a brief moment, he felt guilty for keeping them so long, but it passed relatively quickly when First Aid patted his arm and looked up at him and said:

"I'm glad you're okay-ish now."

Because that's what he was: Okay-ish. Not good, not alright, just... okay-ish. Better, but not quite.

* * *

  **5.**

He distantly remembered the feeling of one spark attached to his own, feeding his, healing his. And he dreamed of blue visors and gentle hands.

* * *

  **6.**

And when he was more than okay, and more than alright, and on the brink of good, Fortress Maximus got an invitation.

_'Come to hab suite 337 in two joors.'_

 He went, of course, if only to sate his curiosity. There, he found quite the pleasant surprise...

Ambulon; Pinning First Aid against the inner wall of their room- mouths connected and one grinding against the other. His cooling fans almost immediately kicked in, and soon after he had two pairs of nimble hands on him.

Stroking, pulling, biting; it was pleasure he hadn't had in millions of years, and he couldn't help but be loud and of course they had to connect their interfacing cables in some strange three way tangle; and suddenly he wasn't only feeling his pleasure, but theirs as well.

On his knees, they climbed atop him, stopping to pet sensitive wires and cables or touch each other. At one point, First Aid was at his head, trailing kissing along his strong jaw and head fins.

The overload approached gradually but steadily, and soon he was gasping and grasping for both of them. He needed to touch- to know they were real and that he was welcome in this pleasure and joy they were sharing. 

He wasn't okay, he wasn't alright or good or any of those- he was fantastic and happy and in awe of these two mechs whom had decided that, despite his flaws and brokenness, he was worthy. Worthy of this relationship and acceptance and he knew; never again would be be alone and afraid.

Never again would he suffer as he had, and maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to leave it all behind.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, what'd ya guys think? Y/N? 
> 
> Also I've found that I really like writing like this! It's really a style I can get into (the whole 1, 2, 3 thing and the whole vibe of this story). I think I've finally found a style in which i can get behind without running into extreme writers block. I hope it stays eheh.


End file.
